And, mercifully, Liir's head will stay free from invasion this time, though Gilbert answers even more fervently than before. By the time he's willing to part lips again, he's turned breathless, giving into small, satisfied pants as he rests his cheek against the taller boy's chest. His arms circle around Liir and hold on. He rather likes the fact that he's clinging onto him in semi-public like this.

It's enough to smooth over that edge of distress that had begun rising up his throat, before, to keep him from thinking too hard about what had drawn Liir up short.

"Did you want to stay for the rest of the dance, then?" he asks after a beat, with just the slightest, impish curl at the ends of an angelic smile.